


What a Small Price to Know You Need Me Too

by ShioriAzuma



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Brothels, Exhibitionism, M/M, Post-Season/Series 06, Prostitution, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 02:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11326977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShioriAzuma/pseuds/ShioriAzuma
Summary: Following a trying day dealing with the chaos that is the Crawleys in London, Thomas Barrow finds himself in desperate need of a little stress relief and he is more than happy to pay. After all, there must be some advantage to his higher wage as butler.





	What a Small Price to Know You Need Me Too

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this idea floating around in my head for a little while and, one week of writing later, here it is. It's set a year or so after the very final episode so Thomas is already well on his way to officially succeeding Carson.
> 
> Enjoy!

Thomas shoved his hands in the deep pockets of his overcoat, fingers turning numb in the brisk breeze. He strode through the twisting network of streets that made up so much of London, the dim lighting leaving much shrouded in shadows. It was far from the first time Thomas had made the journey from the Crawley townhouse to his decidedly more shady destination in the dead of the night and, God willing, it wouldn’t be his last. Such an opportunity was a key and, in Thomas' opinion, the _only_ advantage in the chaos that was moving the extended Crawley family to the capital several times a year. 

Gone were the days when the trip would only happen once, during the height of the season, the Crawleys usually preferring to travel in smaller packs throughout the year. To Thomas' dismay, they had made the decision to visit en masse at least four times a year on top of the smaller visits. As succeeding butler, Thomas found himself at the heart of the travelling circus and, having since managed nearly half a dozen of these trips, he was convinced the family had no idea of the level of disruption it caused the staff. And while the prospect of experiencing the glitz and glamour of London might make it worthwhile to many of the travelling staff, the effect had been lost on Thomas for longer than he cared to recall. 

Which was why he found himself battling the autumnal gusts in search of something to relieve his stress when he should be tucked up in bed. He had already put it off for two nights, having been waylaid by last minute preparation for an impromptu luncheon which Lady Crawley had assured him was of the utmost importance. They always were. And, despite its best efforts to do otherwise, the luncheon had taken place that afternoon and outwardly ran as smooth as could be hoped for. Thomas had received high praise from her ladyship and her guests for his efforts which, while appreciated, did little to compensate for the unnecessary frustrations it had caused him. No, what he needed was to find himself a firm body and have a hard, honest fuck. 

He looked around, finding the surrounding streets completely deserted as he slipped down a side alley. A single flickering bulb at the end of the passage was his only guiding light as he continued on. But he was not perturbed, instead finding that the heavy blackness only added to the sense of anticipation as he was rather familiar with what awaited beyond the artificial glow. 

The closer he walked, the quicker his eyes adjusted to the gloom, soon able to make out the wooden door underneath the bulb. He slid a hand from his coat and rapped his knuckles three times on the worn surface. The third knock had barely sounded when the door opened just a crack, letting out a sliver of yellow light. 

"Your number," the hidden doorman demanded, nothing particular to his accent that Thomas could make out beyond 'posh'. 

"257," Thomas responded and soon found himself admitted into the foyer. 

He nodded politely to the man, affording him a quick glance and seeing nothing particularly worthwhile lingering on. As he waited to be received by a host, he took in the familiar surroundings. Thomas had been a member of the establishment for several years now, a perk of his higher pay. No more than twenty minutes walk from the Crawley residence, it catered towards those with a little more than a shilling to spend on their sins and, accordingly, made sure their merchandise was worth the higher price. 

It had been more than three months since his last visit, still he knew these walls well. The brothel, for Thomas did not shy away from the word, was situated in what had to be a particularly large house with a grand past if the extravagant architecture was anything to go by. However, try as he might, he had yet to succeed in finding the building in daylight without using the alley entrance, choosing to chalk it up to one of those mysteries of London. From what he had been able to tell, the decoration was beautiful but faded throughout, the corridors and rooms beyond solely lit by candlelight. Thomas had found exclusive candlelight to be quite intimate as an alternative to gas or electric lighting. 

As he continued to look around, a woman appeared from a door to his right which he had quite forgotten about. Lithely built, and elegantly dressed, she made a beeline for Thomas. Her pale blonde hair was secured in a tight bun and pinned to that was a veil of black lace which obscured her face. 

"Madam," he greeted with a nod. 

"257, so glad to see you returned to us. It has been far too long." The hostess' voice, pleasantly low for a woman, was a welcome sound to his ears. He had been received by her on several occasions and she had yet to fail in completely fulfilling his requests. "How might we be of assistance tonight?" 

Thomas closed his eyes for a moment and brought up the mental picture he had created on the walk over. "I want somebody strong and confident, that can take a bit of aggression. Nobody shy and blushing – I don't have the patience for that tonight. A little younger than myself, ideally. Someone beautiful." He nodded to himself. Yes, that sounded wonderful. 

The woman hummed in acknowledgement. "And blond?" She asked. 

Thomas frowned. "What, sorry?" 

"Blond. It has been noted that you have a preference for fair hair. Should I also take that into account?" 

He shrugged. "Sure." It appeared he had built a reputation for himself without noticing. 

"And how much would you like to spend?" 

She held out her hand expectantly, waiting patiently while Thomas rummaged around in the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out its contents, pressing it into her palm. The hostess quickly counted the coins, totalling well over two pounds. He had been putting the money aside for a fair while, waiting for the night where he was suitably worked up enough to make the spend worthwhile. 

The woman slid the coins into a hidden pocket in her skirt and gestured for Thomas to follow her through the door to his left, behind which stood a spiral staircase leading to the private rooms. "If you come this way? I believe I have the perfect gentleman for you." 

Thomas calmly ascended the stairs, hanging onto his calm façade by the thinnest of threads. He felt giddier than a child on Christmas morning, had never had the opportunity to pay for such quality before. The men he'd been brought in the past had all been exquisite in their way, always something about each one that made Thomas think back on them fondly. A soft voice, a teasing smile, a pair of knowing eyes. What was it about the one he was about to meet that marked him higher than the rest? 

He noted with glee that the hostess continued to climb up the staircase, past where there was a break in the spiral made by a door. On every previous visit he had been lead through that door, leading onto a corridor scattered with sofas and lined with doors hiding private rooms. They ascended to the second level and continued upwards. Thomas barely restrained the grin threatening to spread across his face as the hostess reached the third level and stopped. Any higher than that must be reserved for people willing to spend more than Thomas could make in two years. He was struggling to believe he'd even made it this high up! 

She pulled an ornate key from her pocket and slid it into the lock, turning it far too slowly in Thomas' opinion. But he knew the hosts highly valued anticipation, and wisely so as he was far from disappointed by what was revealed when the door slowly swung open. He had never seen anything like it. 

They stepped into a cavernous room with fantastically high ceilings from which hung some of the most beautiful chandeliers Thomas had ever laid eyes on. The myriad of candles, held in the chandeliers and in well-polished candelabra placed throughout, bathed the space in soft, flickering light, leaving the edges cloaked in shadow. Clearly well-crafted sofas and armchairs were arranged in groups, all angled towards the central point. 

And for good reason. 

Underneath the largest chandelier stood a banquet table, that itself being surrounded by a tighter ring of sofas completely filled with other members, and on the table was a young man. Thomas almost came to a standstill as he watched the man step gracefully up and down the wooden length, swaying to the beat of a classical melody blaring from a phonograph. He was slim, with dark colouring, and the way the light hit his angular face made it appear quite attractive. With every length he walked, the man seemed to lose an item of clothing, to Thomas' delight. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had the good fortune to watch such a performance. 

A polite cough tore his focus from the dance. "Sir? Right this way." The hostess beckoned him forward once more and he soon found himself ensconced in a plush sofa, at a pleasingly close distance from the central ring. She plucked a glass of amber liquid off a passing tray and pressed it into his hand. "I will be but a moment with your gentleman. Please do relax in the meantime." She disappeared before he had even opened his mouth to thank her. 

Thomas brought the tumbler to his lips and sipped, humming in pleasure at the subtle burn of the whisky down his throat. As he looked around, he quickly realised that the young dancer was just the tip of the iceberg. What kind of blinkers he had been wearing to not notice it straight off, he did not know. In every direction he turned there were men – other members like himself – engaging with the workers. Admittedly, some were merely chatting over a bottle of wine, but most clearly had something else on their mind. In one glancing circuit of the room, Thomas saw filthy kissing, hands down trousers, lips on cocks and, on one sofa not too far from him, an elderly gentleman had a meaty brunet bouncing vigorously in his lap. Thomas had never been so equally horrified and ecstatic at the same time before. It was an honest to God orgy. 

He turned his eyes back to the stage where the dancer had just discarded his underwear, to rapturous applause, and was now spinning slowly, displaying himself, and running his hands up and down his body. Thomas swore he could see the initial streaks of come gliding down the man's erection from where he sat. In previous such performances Thomas had seen of this type, that would be where it ended, no further to go once the clothes were gone. Not so in this case, for the man soon found himself joined on the makeshift stage by two thickly muscled men, their thick cocks bobbing with each step, who pressed him between them. He gyrated against their bodies as they dug their hands into his flesh in a way that practically made Thomas' mouth water. It certainly made his cock throb. 

He almost jumped out of his skin when someone behind him lifted his hat off his head and dropped it to the arm of the sofa. In his peripheral vision, he watched two golden hands grip the back of the sofa. 

"A fine dancer, don't you think?" The unknown man muttered, breath ghosting over Thomas' ear. It was a northern accent, comfortingly familiar given what was typical to come across in London, neither particularly low nor high in pitch. He assumed this was his man for the night, the hosts never being ones for introductions. 

Thomas took a casual mouthful of whisky. "They move well together, but he does seem popular with the other gentlemen in the audience," he acknowledged. For a moment, he could have sworn he heard the unknown man draw in his breath in a gasp, fingers digging into the sofa. 

"And you?" The voice returned, easily distracting Thomas. "Does he excite you? Does he make you hard?" His lips were so close, Thomas was sure they had brushed his ear.

Thomas made a show of contemplating, swirling the remainder of the spirit in his glass. He was already enjoying this immensely. "He is...stunning – unique, even. But he is not what I want tonight." 

"No? Tell me what you want." 

He smirked into his glass as he swallowed another mouthful. "Someone beautiful." 

"Is that so?" He reached forward to take the empty glass from Thomas' hand, revealing a bare forearm dusted with blond hair. "You've got me worried I'll be a disappointment." 

"Oh, I doubt that very much." Thomas was enjoying their flirty repartee. "Won't you let me see for myself?" 

The hands disappeared. "Alright, but cover your eyes first." 

Thomas eagerly lifted both hands, sealing them over his eyes. He forced himself to breathe slowly, adamant that he wouldn't embarrass himself by acting overexcited. This mystery man must be used to men with a good upbringing. 

He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but there was a scent which seemed to cling to the other. Something lightly spiced, perhaps? It disappeared for a moment when the man must have walked around the back of the sofa, then it was everywhere at once as a warm weight settled on his lap. 

"This is an improvement," Thomas grinned. 

Two hands slid over his own, keeping them flush to his closed eyes. "Glad you approve," the man murmured. 

Soft lips brushed against his own, the pressure so minute it tickled. 

"Do you want me?" He whispered against Thomas' mouth. "Say you do. Swear it." 

Thomas ran his tongue over his lips without thinking, tracing the other's lips where they hovered over his own. "I-yes. I swear. I'm desperate for you," he confessed, raising his hips to press his erection more firmly to the mystery man's crotch, pleased to feel an equally firm response. He was swiftly getting to the point where he would be prepared to do anything for a proper taste. 

He had barely finished speaking before the miniscule distance vanished between them and Thomas was being kissed to within an inch of his life. The hands pressed over his slid down to cup his face, tilting Thomas' head up as he deepened the kiss. Thomas took advantage to sink his hands into the man's hair but kept his eyes shut, content with maintaining the mystery for now. He shuddered as the other ground his hips down, his groan swallowed by the kiss. 

The man broke the kiss and stayed pressed tightly to him, holding Thomas in place. "Your mouth." He stole a quick kiss. "Your body." He took another, grinding down. "Better than I remember." 

Thomas was just about coherent enough to realise that that couldn't make sense. They hadn't met, surely? The man's voice did sound a little familiar, but that had to be the effect of a northern accent in London. "Who are you?" He didn't want to look, ignorance was bliss. 

He felt the other lean backwards, hands moving to rest against Thomas' chest as Thomas' own dropped to his sides. "Open your eyes." 

Warily, Thomas cracked open his eyes and took in the man before him in the candlelight. "Oh my God." He stared in disbelief at the one person he had never thought he would see again. At that beautiful, _beautiful_ face. "It can't... Am I awake right now?" He muttered to himself, unable to tear his eyes away. "Are you really here?" 

Jimmy gave him an easy grin. "Afraid so. Are you alright?" 

"I..." Thomas trailed off, didn't know what the hell to say. 

Jimmy Kent was sat in his lap. 

In a brothel. 

And had _kissed_ him. 

"You're a prost-" Thomas was cut off by another kiss. 

"I'm yours. You swore, remember?" He tugged on the lapels of Thomas' overcoat. 

Thomas didn't know what he should do. Was it okay to pay for sex with your once-close friend? Especially if that friend had almost had you arrested for an act of indecency.

"But what are you doing here?" Thomas couldn't help but ask. The last time he'd seen Jimmy was after the incident with Lady Anstruther. How had he gone from an experienced first footman to a prostitute? Despite himself, he also couldn't help but touch, hands gripping Jimmy's hips firmly, subconsciously half-afraid that the other might leave again. 

Jimmy looked away, face falling for a brief moment, before turning back to Thomas with that teasing smirk of his. "Everyone's got to make a living. Should I go? I can have someone else sent over..." He trailed off, knowing full well that Thomas' moral willpower would only stretch so far. 

"Don't you dare," Thomas hissed, curling a hand around the back of Jimmy's neck to drag his mouth back onto Thomas'. As they eagerly moved against each other, Thomas swore he could feel the shape of Jimmy's grin against his lips. 

The next thing he knew, the warm weight in his lap had vanished. He blinked in confusion as Jimmy stood between his legs, worrying his plump lower lip between his teeth as he gave Thomas a heated look. Thomas watched with a strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation as Jimmy began to unbutton his shirt, fingers flying down the row of buttons. Thomas swore he felt his cock twitch with interest as every fresh inch of skin was revealed. The other was still well-built, defined muscles covered in that smooth, golden skin. He must be doing well for himself, Thomas mused, if his line of work hadn't physically worn him down yet. 

Jimmy discarded his shirt carelessly and turned around so that Thomas could admire the line of his back. So distracted by that, Thomas had failed to notice the new task Jimmy's fingers were applying themselves to. Well, that was until the area Thomas had been ogling expanded as the sagging waistband of Jimmy's trousers slid over the curve of his arse and down the back of his thighs, falling crumpled to the floor for Jimmy to kick away with his already bare feet. 

He didn't turn back straight away, as always so confident in himself that he knew Thomas would be drinking in the new sight with the singlemindedness of a parched man to water. Naturally, Jimmy's arse was perfectly formed. Full and rounded, begging for fingers to sink into the muscle. His legs were covered in the same dusting of golden hair as his forearms, the two limbs looking strong enough so that Thomas was looking forward to having them wrapped around his waist. He needed to touch him. 

His gaze flickered to the side, drawn by a slight movement. He watched with rising possessive jealousy as a man several seats away licked his lips in interest at Jimmy. He had almost forgotten that they were very much not alone. 

"There are people watching," Thomas felt compelled to point out. Rather uselessly, mind. Thomas was under no illusion that Jimmy didn't know precisely what he was doing even if he himself didn't have a bloody clue. "How can you just...?" 

Jimmy turned back to face him, slowly enough to allow Thomas the best opportunity to take it all in. Particularly the flushed colour of his leaking cock. "I want everyone to know how much I want you." Jimmy ran his thumb over the head of his cock, all casual. 

Thomas frowned in spite of how close he felt to coming in his trousers. "But you don't. This is just your job." He would welcome such words from any other man he was paying, but not Jimmy. There was too much history there for that lie to not leave a bitter aftertaste. 

Jimmy resettled himself in Thomas' lap, the splayed position of his legs giving Thomas all sorts of ideas now that the other was naked. An admittedly large portion of his brain hungered to know just how much the change had spread those round cheeks. "I want you. Honest, I do. I was just scared before, you know? This." He snatched up Thomas' bad hand, tugging the concealing glove off and stuffing it in the pocket of the overcoat, and wrapped it around his cock. "Is for you," he continued, shuddering against Thomas as he moved their joined hands along his length. "This is what you do to me." 

"I can't believe this." 

"Thomas, please." Jimmy gazed at him imploringly. "Let's have this. Don't bother with the 'what ifs', just-" 

Thomas buried his free hand in Jimmy's hair and wrenched the other's mouth onto his, kissing him thoroughly. He felt more than heard Jimmy whine as he began to thrust into the circle of their hands. 

They broke apart with a satisfyingly wet sound and Thomas released the hold on Jimmy's hair to run his thumb over the other's plump lower lip. It was exhilarating seeing the needy hunger in Jimmy's eyes. He reluctantly wriggled his hand free of the tight grip fixing it to Jimmy's erection to plunge it into the inside pocket of his overcoat. 

"Thomas..." Jimmy protested quietly, clearly teetering close to the edge already. 

He pulled out a fresh handkerchief and quirked an eyebrow pointedly at Jimmy. "Can't have you messing up my suit. What if someone stopped me on my way back?" 

Jimmy took it without further preamble and loosely covered his cock. He glanced down expectantly towards it, then back at Thomas, arching his own eyebrow now. But Thomas had other plans. As his left hand moved to mindlessly map the contours of the rising chest before him, the other caressed the length of Jimmy's thigh, smoothing over his hip and finally sank into Jimmy's arse cheek. He squeezed, enjoying the jerk and gasp it dragged from Jimmy. 

"Keep touching me," Jimmy begged breathlessly as he returned to pumping his erection. "Let everyone know I'm yours." 

Thomas was more than happy to show anyone with the nerve to watch how he could make this prideful man sing for him, by any means necessary. He drew his fingers over the muscle, nails scraping against the skin as he kept his eyes locked on Jimmy's. Tracing the length of the crease, Thomas delved in searchingly and circled the twitching hole teasingly, Jimmy's breathing hitching. To his surprise, Thomas found it already loose and slick. 

"I see you came prepared." Thomas sank a finger inside, pleased to feel Jimmy bear down on it. He took up a steady rhythm, matching Jimmy's own, a second digit soon joining the first. 

"I - _ah_ \- would hate if I wasn't ready for you, for what you needed." Jimmy sped up, crying out as Thomas took up a rougher, harder rhythm, desperate to see the other fall apart. Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut, panting as Thomas brought him closer and closer, the rocking of his hips grinding into Thomas' own erection. 

As he came with a groan, he arched his back beautifully, displaying himself to Thomas. Jimmy slumped against him, face pressed against Thomas' neck. 

Thomas took the used handkerchief from Jimmy's lax grip, wiping away the remaining spend and discarded it on the end table to his right. He had not, however, removed the digits of his right hand buried inside Jimmy. Peering over Jimmy's shoulder, Thomas made eye contact with the half a dozen men watching them with interest as his gaze swept the room. He crooked his fingers, smirk growing as Jimmy twitched and shivered in his lap, whimpering from his body's sensitivity. 

_He's mine._

It might just be for tonight, but Thomas was insistent that everybody know it would be him alone teasing the reactions from this man. No one else could lay a hand on him, not like Thomas. 

"Mmm," Jimmy hummed into his neck as Thomas finally slid his fingers out to dig them back into the curve of the muscled cheek. "I think they know now." 

"Do you?" Thomas asked without thinking. 

"That I'm yours? Part of me always has." He kissed Thomas softly, a caress of lips more than anything. 

He pushed himself to his feet, tugging Thomas up with him, and threaded a hand into Thomas', evidently intent on taking him elsewhere at long last. Before Thomas had the chance to reach for it, Jimmy picked up the butler's discarded hat and placed it on his own head at a rakish angle. "Come on," Jimmy urged, leading them through the maze of seats. It was a surprising turn on watching the man saunter across the room in nothing but Thomas' hat, hips swaying provocatively. 

"Where are we going?" 

Jimmy glanced at him as he swept back a curtain and stepped into a hidden corridor lined with doors, similar to that of the lower floors yet far more spaced out. "Somewhere you can fuck me hard. I heard that's what you wanted." 

Thomas almost choked, he inhaled so quickly. He couldn't believe Jimmy was speaking like that. The man had always been lewd but this was a whole new level and Thomas was loving it. 

He was jerked into a room and unceremoniously shoved into the door, slamming it closed behind them. Jimmy was suddenly everywhere, kissing him like his life depended on it, tugging at his clothes. Thomas plucked his hat off Jimmy's head and sent it spinning away but was thwarted in his attempt to caress the other's face as Jimmy yanked his overcoat and jacket down his arms in one go, letting them fall to the floor. His braces were soon hanging down and he found his wrists alternately gripped in Jimmy's hands as the other undid his shirt cuffs without looking. 

Thomas submitted to the rushed undressing, each item bringing him rapidly closer to the moment where they would press together with no more barriers. His shirt and tie were thrown away and Jimmy wasted no time in slipping his warm hands up Thomas' undershirt to thumb at his nipples. Thomas' toes curled up, body blazing with heat as they were forced to separate, allowing Jimmy to rip the offending undershirt over Thomas' head. 

"You're so pale," Jimmy mused, laying his darker hand on Thomas' chest. 

Thomas shrugged. "That's what happens when you spend your life working in a house." He ran his thumb along Jimmy's jawline. "I never understood how you managed to keep your colour." 

"Because I was always sneaking off outside," Jimmy chuckled, hands falling to the fastening of Thomas' trousers. "You know what I just realised?" He undid the trousers and pushed them down slightly as he held Thomas' hips. 

"What?" 

"You've brought me off, had your fingers inside me, and I still haven't touched your cock. You should have me replaced." 

Thomas laughed, pecking Jimmy's lips. "Plenty of time to make up for it." 

"Oh I will," Jimmy promised. "Now, tell me what you're going to do once I get you out of the last of these clothes." He slid a hand into Thomas' underwear, wrapping his fingers around Thomas' length. "Tell me what you're going to do with this." 

Thomas forced his hips to remain still as his cock was finally given the attention it had been begging for since he'd entered the last room. He looked over Jimmy's shoulder, noting with pleasure the large bed before him, the room perfectly lit by a modest hanging chandelier. "You're going to get on your hands and knees on that bed and spread your legs for me. You'll beg for me to touch you, fuck you until you scream my name." He kissed Jimmy's neck, worrying the skin between his teeth, both of them shivering against each other as Jimmy reflexively tightened his grip. He released the reddened skin, running his tongue over it. "You won't forget me." 

"Like I could." Jimmy shoved the last of Thomas' clothes down his legs and backed away with a grin. "Come and get me." 

"Bastard," Thomas grumbled with a grin as he hopped inelegantly from one foot to the other, pulling off his shoes, socks and clothing until he was bare. He surged forward, shoving the other onto the bed. Jimmy landed with a bounce, shuffling to the centre. Thomas chased after him, planting his hands on Jimmy's thighs and spreading them wide as he settled between them. He captured Jimmy's lips in a biting kiss, grinding their erections together as they rolled their hips. 

Thomas sank two fingers into Jimmy's hole, focused on opening up Jimmy in earnest. "I need you slicker." 

"On the side table." He reluctantly loosened his grip on Thomas and stretched out an arm to snatch up the jar of ointment. 

Thomas sat up as he took the jar and spun the lid off, dipping his fingers into the clear liquid. "Get on your knees." 

Jimmy eagerly rolled onto his hands and knees, opening his legs so wide Thomas could see his twitching hole without spreading his cheeks. "Do i-" 

He buried two fingers inside, quickly adding a third as the ache in his cock increased. Jimmy leant into the touch, both so intently focused on what was going on in his arse to chat, his progressively laboured breathing his only noise. Thomas slicked his cock up, securing both hands firmly on Jimmy's hips. The other had barely uttered a complaint before Thomas was thrusting forward, burying himself completely in the tight heat. 

"Jesus," Jimmy groaned, pushing back on Thomas' cock. 

Thomas took a moment to look and appreciate the unlikely scenario that was happening here. Jimmy Kent was on his knees for him, quivering and panting over what Thomas' cock was doing to him. He watched with fascination as he pulled back part way, reaching down to thumb at the rim of Jimmy's hole sealed around him. 

"Pinch me, I must be dreaming," Thomas muttered to himself. 

"I'm a little busy right now," Jimmy huffed, wiggling his hips. "But if you don't move in the next five seconds I'll bloody punch y- _ahh!_ "  
Thomas grinned as he cut Jimmy's words off by driving into him, taking up what he intended to be a punishingly hard rhythm. He was quickly beginning to love shutting the other up in that way. 

He pounded into Jimmy, breathing raggedly, beads of sweat rolling down his body. The squeeze around his cock, the drag as he retreated only to snap back in was divine. The body underneath him was perfection itself – how could Jimmy be anything else? - as it trembled beneath him, breaths matching Thomas' in their irregularity. Good Lord, this was just what he needed! He laughed, throwing his head back, overwhelmed in the sheer joy and exhilaration of the moment. Even better, Jimmy's professional façade seemed to be cracking with each thrust. If he just adjusted a little... 

" _Ugh!_ There! Thomas, there, please," Jimmy pleaded, groaning unabashedly with each flick of Thomas' hips. 

Thomas was more than happy to oblige, pleased by the power he held, finally getting to show this man exactly what he could do to him - _for him_ \- even if he'd had to pay. 

Dangerously close to the edge, Thomas reached down to grasp Jimmy's cock to find Jimmy's own hand already pumping the length furiously. He wrapped his own over the top, tightening the grip and speeding up as he surged into the other with the last of his energy, gratified to feel Jimmy spill over their entwined hands as they both came. 

Thomas collapsed bonelessly onto his side, closing his eyes as he fought to gain control of his breathing. It had been a long time since he'd felt so burned out after a fuck. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring into Jimmy's, he too having curled onto his side. 

He smirked lazily and made to grab Thomas' fluid-covered hand, armed with a cloth he had procured from God knows where. Thomas watched the other carefully wipe the appendage clean, paying equal diligence to each digit, the palm, and the twist of scar tissue on the top. He made what Thomas thought to be a laughably clinical wipe of Thomas' cock, removing the worst of the collection of substances sticking to him, then tossed the soiled cloth onto the floor. Hopefully not near Thomas' suit. 

"That was a real workout," Jimmy teased, voice low as he shuffled closer. He reached above and pulled down a pillow, shoving it under Thomas' head after a little resistance before dropping his own onto the remaining surface. 

Thomas smiled, enjoying this quiet 'moment after' he normally wouldn't have with others he bedded. "It's a tiring job being the butler-in-training, don't you know?" He drawled in a mockery of the imperious tone he had been wont to use in his youth. 

Jimmy's eyebrows rose in shock. "You never are! With the Crawleys?" 

Thomas nodded. He began to aimlessly trail a hand down Jimmy's side, sliding over his waist and hip to curve over his arse and run down the back of his thigh, then reversing the process. "Carson's in partial retirement, not that he seems to have accepted it yet. But I don't want to talk about me and you won't put me off again." He made sure to smile, to keep his tone friendly in the hopes of not scaring Jimmy away. 

Jimmy pouted, leaning forward to press his lips to Thomas' in a rather chaste yet lingering kiss. "Must we?" He raised his own hand to stroke his thumb along the defined line of Thomas' cheekbone. 

"Yes," Thomas urged, slightly taken aback by the level of affection Jimmy was showing him. "I need to know how a man with your high level of footman experience ended up as a prostitute. Opportunities in service aren't as plentiful as they used to be but surely..." Thomas was glad to see that Jimmy didn't flinch away at Thomas' frankness in calling his profession what it was, some often being coy at best about it. He didn't want to insult Jimmy after all, but he had to understand what had happened in the years since they parted.

Jimmy sighed. "Not much good in experience if your references aren't worth the paper they're written on." 

"What?" Thomas gasped, so taken aback that his fingers briefly dug into Jimmy's skin in surprise before resuming their trailing. "How could you have had bad references? His lordship told Carson to give you a good one, and why wouldn't he? He didn't know what happened with-" He cut himself off as Jimmy shook his head. 

"He must have found out. I was already in London by the time I bothered to look at the thing. It was awful, made me feel ugly and small," Jimmy confessed glumly. 

Thomas couldn't have that. He kissed Jimmy, lazily nudging the other's tongue with his own until they were quite starved for breath. "You're none of those things," Thomas whispered. "Larger than life and the most beautiful man I've ever seen." The small smile Jimmy gave sent a happy buzz through him. But it did nothing for the growing rage he felt directed towards his old superior. 

"I can believe those words are genuine when they come from you. But that's what happened," Jimmy continued. "A shoddy reference as proof for the last several years of work and my prior reference almost as useless." He pressed a finger to Thomas' lips as he made to speak. "Lady Anstruther expressly forbade me from using it as she left. I didn't think it would be an issue. Why would I? I thought I'd be getting a good one from Carson." 

Thomas lay a kiss on the fingertip resting on his lips. Jimmy moved it away to run it down Thomas' side in much the same way as Thomas was doing to him, kissing Thomas himself. 

When they broke apart, Thomas found himself staring earnestly into Jimmy's eyes. "I wish I had found you sooner. This life..." 

"If I wasn't here, you might not have found me at all," Jimmy reasoned. "I'd be dead, buried in a pauper's grave." He was so very matter of fact about it all. 

Thomas felt sickened at the very thought. It was one thing to not have Jimmy in his own life, and another entirely for Jimmy to not exist at all. Still, he couldn't allow this to go on any longer. 

"Come back with me," Thomas all but ordered. "You can have your old job back." He was thinking furiously, planning out how he could orchestrate what would be his greatest power move against Carson in a long time. 

"I don't know..." Jimmy shifted uneasily. 

"Surely being a footman is better than this? As good as you are, don't you want to have the rights to your own body?" Thomas couldn't understand why Jimmy would hesitate. He knew the brothel didn't own their workers like slaves – it was why Thomas rated the place over all others – so Jimmy was free to leave whenever he liked. Was he afraid? 

"Would I not just be signing myself over to you?" Jimmy asked with a sneer. 

"No," Thomas snapped, affronted. "I would never touch you unless you truly wanted me and I already know you aren't interested." He started to pull away. 

"Wait!" Jimmy clung to him, refusing to loosen until Thomas had settled back down. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. Just... How will you manage it? Both Lord Grantham and Carson know what I did." Jimmy sighed hopelessly. 

Thomas would move heaven and earth for this man. "Lord Grantham is a fair man. When he finds out how you were dealt with, he'll feel compelled to take you back. Carson will be a little trickier but he'll find me hard to dissuade in this case. I won't leave London without you." He sealed the promise with a kiss. 

"But why? Why do you care, even after all this time?" 

Thomas smiled half-heartedly. "I think you know. May I tell you what I want?" 

Jimmy nodded. 

"I want to make you happy in any way I can. I want you to succeed in your job, knowing that if you want to leave there will be a fair reference to take away. I want you to find the love of your life and for you to live in absolute bliss, utterly besotted with each other. I want you to smile from the moment you wake to the point where you close your eyes to sleep. I want all of those things for you, Jimmy. To play a small part in it. And I don't expect anything in return." He gazed earnestly at Jimmy, hoping to convey even just a slither of the affection he felt for the other man. 

An uncharacteristic blush spread across Jimmy's cheeks. "When you say things like that, it makes me think I've already found the love of my life." 

Thomas' heart lurched in his chest, hope emanating from hearing the words. "Don't say anything you don't mean," Thomas all but begged. "You don't like-" 

"Thomas," Jimmy interrupted. "It's been a long time since that kiss and, though it shames me to admit, my reaction was largely fuelled by those around me. That, and you scared the hell out of me," he teased with a grin. "Then I was too busy bothering Alfred and the others to put much thought in it. I don't love you, but I could. I truly believe that. And I don't think a woman exists that could love me as much as you do." 

"I don't know what to say," Thomas confessed in bewildered disbelief. He so wanted what Jimmy said to be true. "This can't be real." 

Jimmy pinched him hard, having the nerve to laugh as Thomas hissed in pain and shot a glare at him. "You're not dreaming." 

"Arse," Thomas grumbled, secretly pleased when Jimmy rubbed soothing circles on the spot. "You honestly mean it?" He couldn't help but ask. "And if, in the end, you can't love me?" 

Jimmy shrugged nonchalantly. "At the very least, you can get me off." 

Thomas burst into laughter, burying his face in Jimmy's shoulder as he clutched the man to him. "Christ, I've missed you!" He managed to get out once he had calmed down.

Jimmy brought their mouths together, kissing heatedly as they both poured out their mutual desire. 

Thomas knew he could get hurt. In all probability he would end up with a broken heart again. But he knew any pain in the future would be worth it just to have this man in his life again. "Say you'll come back with me." 

Jimmy drew Thomas flush against him. "I'll never let you go again."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are highly appreciated!


End file.
